


A Little Drop Of Poison

by PaladinGabe



Series: Drunk On The Moon [2]
Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Alcohol, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, DDADDS Spoilers, Depression, Drunk Sex, Drunkenness, Implied one night stand, M/M, One Night Stands, POV First Person, People Watching, Referenced Drunk Sex, Robert's pov, Smoking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-02
Updated: 2017-08-02
Packaged: 2018-12-10 00:15:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,082
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11680035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PaladinGabe/pseuds/PaladinGabe
Summary: Sometimes, when Robert is having his worst days, he needs to just go out on the town. He invites Mary, of course, that'd be a crime if he didn't. But he decides that he also wants to invite the man that continues to surprise him every time he sees him.





	A Little Drop Of Poison

**Author's Note:**

> PART ONE of Robert's First Date! It got too long and needed to be broken up. I hope you guys enjoy!!
> 
> I just wanna say FIRST OFF, I am absolutely FLOORED by the positive feedback I Hope That I Don't Fall In Love With You got!!! LIKE!!! YOU HAVE NO IDEA. Thank you all so, so much!
> 
> SECOND, I would like to point out that there indeed is sensitive material in here. Robert's an alcoholic, he uses sex to cope, and he uses it as a crutch when he doesn't wanna face his demons. So, I just want to make note of this now, not wanting anyone to not be warned if they're uncomfortable or squicked.
> 
> THIRD, [Spotify playlist](https://open.spotify.com/user/wanderingtiff/playlist/6xCW7xRlk8boCLNzTZ4RfK). I added a couple new songs!  
> Now, Happy Reading!

“Dad, you said you’d take me!”

_If only I had the intention to never say no to the face that she is giving me right now. From back to when she was a baby to then when she was eight years old and urging me to take her out for breakfast._

_It was three in the afternoon._

_“I’ll take you tomorrow morning,” I’d assured her with some sort of brand of confidence that could hide a possible lie._

_I could see Marilyn staring me down as I told her this, shaking her head. She knew better._ I _knew better. I knew that I wasn’t going to take her, but I didn’t have the balls to just tell her the truth._

_There were other things I was trying to chase after—things that I thought were more important to me than spending time with my own flesh and blood._

_I deserve to be hated._

_\--_

_The cul-de-sac talking about_ _being with_ their children is so soothing, but with that comes an obnoxious by-product. It’s the self-deprecation that follows when I realize my treatment to my daughter goes beyond being paled by comparison to theirs. Especially when Brian talks about Daisy and brags about all of her accomplishments. I can only wish I knew what Val wanted when she was ten.

The shitty gut feeling follows me the morning after the party, when I open my bloodshot eyes and stare the temporary sobriety straight in the face. I blearily look at the clock at my bedside and see that it is eight in the morning. No human being should even be up this early. My head pounds with the threat of a hangover affecting my body’s concept of gravity.

_What the hell happened last night?_

I turn my head and see someone I barely recognize lying beside me on the bed. Oh yeah. Now I remember in spurts.

Jim and Kim’s. A tourist was exploring the sights and sounds of Maple Bay to try and get away from all the noises of a nearby city that I can’t be fucked to remember the name of. He didn’t like whiskey, and he kept asking about my tattoo. I fucking hate that.

I suppose that if I brought him home with me, then maybe I found something to like about him. Maybe his ass felt nice.

When I get up from the bed, not only do I feel the weights in my head that threaten to drag me back into bed, but I feel radiating pain shooting up and down the nether areas of my spine.

I let him _top?_

_Fuck._

I guess I’ll reword my thoughts: Maybe his _dick_ felt nice.

He’s still sleeping, and I really don’t feel like dragging his ass up just yet to get him out the door. I need to wash my face… or, everything.

Showers are supposed to soothe you, but for me it just makes me want to keep scrubbing my skin raw to fight away the shame. It shouldn’t have to be _this_ excruciating, but I have a hard time thinking of positives without a hint of dark humor or a crutch. I need a drink.

I give myself a pat dry after what I think was a shower, and I hear what’s-his-name calling for me from the bedroom. I groan when I realize I have to get rid of him. It’s always the worst part, because these people get the impression that if I fuck them without thinking twice, it’s supposed to _obviously_ mean that I care for them, or have feelings for them. Some shit like that. How dare they make assumptions.

I step out of the bathroom fully clothed. He’s sitting up, looking up with this anticipatory light in his eyes. Shame.

“Well, that was fun.” I reach down to pick his clothes up off the floor. God, my ass hurts. I toss them to him, not worried about where it would land or if he’d even attempt to catch them.

“Yeah, it was,” he insists with a smile. He holds his shirt in his grasp and tilts his head.

“But now, you gotta go.”

“What do ya mean?” he frowns and gets up from the bed. My eyes just so happen to briefly focus on what’s between his legs. No wonder why my ass hurts so much. “I thought we had something, Robert!”

“Look, buddy, I don’t even remember your name,” I mumble bluntly. “You should’ve known what you were getting into when you came back to my house.”

He finally starts redressing after giving me such a hard stare. “You’re not that great of a person.”

Hearing that makes me smirk, but I hope my growing disdain shows in my eyes. “I never said that I was.”

It takes some more effort for him to just _leave._ He starts off with this whole broken monologue of how he can get me to change or some bullshit like that. It just makes me wanna poison my liver. It’s disgusting.

I figured his name out when he left. Colin.

\--

 _While I’m staring at the credits_ scrolling down at the end of the latest film in my little binge-watching list, Betsy nuzzles further into my lap. I swear, I’m not crying because of the pure poetry. I’m just sweating from my eyes because of the pure poetry.

“I’m fine,” I mumble blearily while Betsy’s nudging my arm. With my shot glass in my other hand, I move it closer to my lips to drink. The glass is empty, but the bottle is on my coffee table. Too far away.

In the midst of me drying my eyes, I suddenly hear a notification on my phone. It’s ten in the morning. People are still up this early? Despicable.

It’s a message from Dadbook. I’m just surprised someone on there actually wants to talk to me. I’ll bite.

 

**Decent Human Being:**

**Hey Robert, good seeing you again at the cookout. Wanna grab a drink?**

 

It’s the guy I met at Jim and Kim’s. That’s… shocking. Well, he’d said that he didn’t want to sleep with me that night, but I didn’t think that it’d go past anything other than drinking one time and hanging out with a bunch of other nerdy fathers that always make me feel out of place. I mean, that’d be the one thing that makes sense. It’s a tempting offer, really. I just don’t want to talk to anyone at the moment.

I’m busy, after all. I’m busy crying over the sheer beauty of _The Green Mile_ with Betsy. Well, I’m doing all the crying here, not Betsy. She’s tougher than I am.

I’ll talk to him later.

\--

 _Drinking all morning alone does nothing_ to ease past pain. Not by one bit. If anything, it just makes me lonely and sad. I need a buddy to drink with. Well, I know who definitely _is_ available, but going without Mary is a crime! She’d never pass a night on the town, ever.

 

**Robert:**

**Mary.**

**hey**

**hey mary**

**wanna go bar hopping**

 

While I wait for her, I feed Betsy. Time's slowly being eaten away, and while it’s as noticeable as the rising sun, it’s something I want to ignore a little bit longer. Mary takes a few moments to respond. She’s probably fighting with the twins. Or Joseph. The idea of it in my head just cracks me up.

 

**Mary:**

**Hell yeah!**

**I’m free tonight**

**Robert:**

**:D**

**yeeess**

**is it ok if i bring a friend**

**he was at the cookout**

**Mary:**

**Ymean Sailor?**

**Guess so. he’s alright**

**Robert:**

**cool**

**Jim + Kims @ 9pm dont be late**

 

It’s been sealed. I look at the time. I still got a few hours to kill, so maybe I can watch another film. Betsy is already leading the way for me, her tiny paws clicking against the hardwood floor underneath her. There’s plenty of movies I can choose from. _Gone with the Wind…_ Too long. _Halloween_ is nice, but I’d still be cutting it close.

I get to my VHS tapes, and I look longingly towards a shelf that I’d intended to fill with memories but ended up having only a dozen or so videos that I’d left to gather dust. Who can forget such award-winning, Oscar-worthy titles like _“Robert and Marilyn Small, 1987,_ ” and _“Val’s First Steps, 1991?_ ” Oh, you’d be a fool if you’ve never seen _“Val and Daddy, 1993.”_ That was a classic.

Where did I go wrong?

Betsy’s nose nudges at my leg, and she helps bring me back to Earth. I had to pry my gaze away from the worst instance of never finishing anything I’d ever done. I decided on my own that maybe watching another movie isn’t such a good idea. My feet are heavy and sluggish as I trudge up the stairs to my room.

Outside on the balcony, I watch the sunset with sweet Betsy in my arms. At least _she_ doesn’t think I’m a bad person. Dogs are funny like that, and I love her for it. I don’t even bother watching for the time, since I often get entranced during evenings like this. However, I forgot to tell that relatively decent human being that I wanted to take him up on his offer. I’m such a rude friend.

 

**Robert:**

**you up?**

**wyd**

 

He read it, but I don’t mind waiting for a response. I’m dressed and ready to go. I just need to make sure that everyone is available to go out for drinks first.

 

**Decent Human Being:**

**I’m watching television with my daughter.**

 

Oh my god. He’s sweet. I suppose I can still ask him if he wants to go out. After all, he did say something this morning.

 

**Robert:**

**wanna grab a drink**

**Decent Human Being:**

**Sure.**

**Robert:**

**perfect ;)**

**jim + kims 2 hrs dont be late**

 

I wait until I get an affirmative response from him before sitting back in my chair on the balcony. I set Betsy down to move around while I smoke, and as I breathe the toxins in up to the filter I think of all the poor bastards that would even dare to smoke with their pets either on their laps or within a two-foot radius from them. Only clean air for my baby.

The thought doesn’t stay for long, and I stare at my latest whittling project that’s sitting on the small table. It’s a tiny wooden version of my truck. One day I’ll finish it.

Just not today.

\--

 _He’s late. It’s only by a_ couple minutes, though, so it’s not that big of a deal. But hell, even Mary was here before the two of us, and I was the one that invited her out. She’s really in the mood for it. We head inside the bar first and wait for him by the stools. He’d said that he was going to join us, and we believe that he will. I just wish that I remembered to tell him that Mary was gonna be with us. I don’t think it’s gonna be a problem, though.

I see the familiar face step into the bar, and my lips quirk up by a fraction as I wave him over.

“Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Hey, buddy,” I hum as Mary moves closer to greet him.

“Ahoy there, skipper,” she grins while holding her wine.

I see the quizzical look on his face, and I hope it’s a _good_ kind of look. “I brought Mary along. Figured we needed a drinking buddy.”

She frowns. “Don’t look so scared, kiddo. We’re just having a drink.”

“Yeah.”

He has an expression that reads “ _I’m prey.”_

I try and shrug it off as I move to the bar and gesture to Neil. “Speaking of which, I think it’s time for the first round. What are ya having?”

Mary’s going to want whiskey, so I’m just curious as to what our new friend would like.

“Whiskey, straight up,” he says to me after a brief pause.

Does he only want to drink whiskey because of me? After all, he told me that he’s more of a beer drinker.

“A dad after my own heart, huh?”

I love it. I’ve converted him.

“Three shots of whiskey, Neil,” I proclaim and wait for our drinks. Mary puts her finished wine glass down to pick the shot glass up.

“Here’s to bad decisions and relaxed moral values, fellas,” she beams as we all drink.

Our friend nearly chokes. I can see it on his face. He’s so new to it that it’s honestly adorable. I think he’ll get the hang of it soon, though, after he’d be with us enough times. We’re a bunch of fiends.

I pay Neil and get my jacket on again. “Let’s get marching.”

“What?”

I look to him again. “The night’s young, Chief. Come on, we’re bar hopping.”

“Oh, alright.”

The three of us go together to the next bar, and it’s obvious that this man doesn’t go out much. Maybe he used to at some point, but I guess being a good dad requires you to make sacrifices that I was never willing to make.

“So, where are we headed?” he asks me after a while.

“Irish I Were Drinking,” I mumble. “It’s an Irish pub.”

“A good pun is the whis _-key_ to my heart!”

Is he trying to one-up me? I cover my mouth to keep any form of chuckling stifled.

“Puns are the lowest form of humor,” Mary scoffs with a deadpanned expression. “Try harder.”

“Jesus, Mary,” I huff, “put your fangs away for a second. Don’t scare him with your cynicism!”

“It’s part of my rugged charm,” she teases with a grin.

“I love you.”

I briefly turn to the bashful member of our group as we enter the pub. The excessive Irish memorabilia is charming, and eventually he seems grounded enough for me to order our next round of shots.

“Next round. What are ya having?”

“Whiskey!” Mary chimes in immediately.

Meanwhile, this precious man that just screams out that he’s this wild kind of hybrid between naivety and boldness, shrugs with the smoothest response I’d ever expect from him. “Whiskey hasn’t failed me yet.”

I grin. “Let’s do it!”

After we get our glasses, Mary and I lead him to one of the back booths. Mary sits beside me, and I hold up my shot.

“Let’s sip this one, why don’t we?” I inquire.

She just snorts. “Suit yourself.” She downs hers in one quick swallow before burping so loud that it makes our friend jump. “Hah! That’ll pull the hair on your chest.”

“You are truly the paragon of grace and beauty,” I chide while giving her this teasingly wistful look.

I watch Mary start to drink the third shot, and it’s amusing watching the poor guy get his drink stolen. Mary asks him to get the next round, and the two of us have some time alone to talk.

“You good?” she murmurs while staring at her empty glass longingly.

I give her a nod. “Always am.”

She rolls her eyes. “Marilyn or Val?”

I groan while holding my head. “Both.”

“Bad decision to bring it up, I’m guessing?”

“Is that even a question?” I chuckle.

Mary smiles. “I got a story that’ll make you feel better.”

I peer up through my fingers. “Listening…”

“Hoo boy, it’s a good one,” she grins. “Lemme tell you about the shit show that was last night’s bake sale. Edith was there again with her ‘prize-winning’ cupcakes. But her kid showed up with her. He brought brownies with him. And see, he had this baggie--you get where this is going, don’t ya?”

She added that when I start to bust out laughing. I definitely fucking know where this is going. “Don’t mind me, what happens next?”

Like a savior, our friend comes over with our next round of shots. It can’t get any better than this.

Mary starts to laugh. It’s that kind of laugh where you remember something hysterical in your head and you’re trying not to get distracted because the memory flashing by your head is just too funny.

“So, Edith’s kid snuck some pot brownies onto the table, right? And I spot that little hemp-sweatered gremlin in the act. So I go up to Edith with the baggie, and I’m about to tell her when all of a sudden, she just freaks out on me,” she chuckles. “‘You’re ruining the bake sale,’ she says, ‘I should’ve been PTA president,’ ‘your roots are bad,’ and blah, blah, blah.”

“So, what’d you do?” The suspense is killing me!

She gives me this shit-eating grin. “I told her to have a brownie and that everything was gonna be fine.”

I can’t help but continue to laugh.

“She ate _three!_ ”

All three of us lose it at that point. Silly Edith!

“She called the cops and told them that time had stopped.”

We all try to catch our breath from the sudden bursts of laughter. I have to dry my eyes in between, and we situate our shot glasses.

“Do you smoke weed?” Mary asks our friend.

“What?” It catches him completely off guard.

She blinks. “You know, the devil’s lettuce.” When he hesitates, she gives him a smirk. “I have two big, fat blunts in my purse right now. Wanna blaze?”

I know where this is going already, and I just wanna see how this guy reacts. If he starts getting all judgmental with Mary, I’m out.

“You with the feds?”

What is this guy doing?

“I worked hard for what I have, and no two-bit corner boy is gonna drop the dime on me. So, you take what you’re pushing somewhere else and I’ll keep running my business the way I want it run.”

I’m flabbergasted by his response. Mary is, too. I just don’t know what to say.

“…What?”

He gets in real close with this somewhat serious expression. “Remember. You come at the king, you best not miss.”

My eyes widen and I cover my mouth. Did _he_ just quote _The Wire?!_

Mary moves back. “Jesus kid, dial it back.”

I am completely beside myself, holding my stomach while I let out these embarrassing giggles. He’s a funny one! I like him a lot.

“I’m just kidding, cowboy,” she shrugs in the midst of my laughter.

“Lay off the kid, Mary,” I giggle. “He might not be used to your brand of humor.”

We sip our next round of shots, for real this time. We take this time to continue talking to each other.

Mary gestures to this big guy hanging out with a woman that clearly wasn’t interested in him. “Look at this asshole,” she grins at me.

I watch him try and interact with this girl. She’s rolling her eyes while he’s talking to her.

“I can see it now, watch her face,” I grin. I pull off a deeper voice for this guy. “He’s probably saying shit like, _‘I know everything about Maple Bay. I live up the way, so I can take a brief stop before I give you a tour.’_ Meanwhile, the look on her face just pricelessly reads,” I clear my throat to pull off a high-pitched voice, “‘ _Unless you have a map, I’m not interested. Somebody, free me.’”_

“Oh look, look!” Mary’s smile gets real big. “She has a girlfriend!”

“How can you tell?” Our friend tilts his head and looks over.

“See that girl that with the short hair that could probably break you like a toothpick?”

“Yea— _hey!”_

She chuckles. “Look, she’s walking over…the guy’s not the least bit intimidated. _‘Don’t you see she doesn’t wanna talk to you?’”_

I watch the guy’s bodily and verbal response. “This asshole—‘ _Oh yeah, what are you gonna do about it?’_ ”

“I hope she punches him in the nose,” he sighs.

“Me too,” she hums. “Finally, something we can agree on.”

We watch the most cathartic display of events I’d ever seen. She punched him square in the nose, and he gets knocked down like a poorly constructed building. The three of us cheer from the back, but no one seems to be paying attention to us.

Other people in the bar aren’t as funny as what just happened with the three people together, but it’s still fun to imagine what they’re doing. Two guys were trying to buy the same girl a drink. One guy lost his toupée and was looking all over the pub for it. Everyone was plastered. It was fun.

After a while, I notice that this guy looks a little antsy, though I’m not entirely sure why.

“Hey Mary, could you get the next round?”

She looks over at him while we’re all talking. “You trying to ditch me, pal?” she teases.

“I… no…”

“Because if you’re trying to ditch me, you can just tell me to scram.”

He’s hesitating. “I, just—”

“No, no, it’s fine. You want alone time with your new best buddy Robert. Read you loud and clear,” she grins and moves out of the booth. “The wingman breaks formation to pursue their prey. Now if you fellas will excuse me, Mary needs to sink her teeth into a helpless boy.”

“Go with god,” I grin and raise my empty glass to her.

“Nice seeing you,” our friend offers.

“Deuces, nerds.” She’s already leaving with a wave behind her. She’s on the prowl, her eyes on a younger looking guy near the bar.

I look at my new friend here, and I watch his face. “She grows on you.”

“Does she, though?” he asks. “I feel like she kinda delights in making men suffer.”

I let out a laugh while saying, “Well, she does.”

He sighs. “But what about her and Joseph?”

I stare at him. “What about ‘em?”

“You know…” He’s nervous again. “They’re married? And she definitely tried to get in my pants the other night? And—”

As I watch him gesture over to her latest hostage, I shake my head with a knowing chuckle. “Oh, that’s just a thing she does. She’s harmless.”

“Tell that to the boy she’s hanging off of. Poor kid looks like he’s seen war.”

I start to laugh again. What a hoot! I got this guy all wrong, after all. He’s pretty cool. “Aw man, you know… I pegged you for one of those straight-laced types.”

He grins. “Oh, don’t worry, I got pretty wild back in my day.”

That’s got me thinking. I could still use some company tonight. While he looks like he’s reminiscing, I lean in close while smirking. “Still got a little wild in you?”

“You know it!” he laughs, and with that I order a couple more round of shots. I have them on the table ready for us.

“Think you can go shot for shot?” I hum.

He says nothing, but I watch him look at the glass for a few seconds before downing it. He really knows how to go after my heart! I knock my own back, almost instantly ready for the next one. It’s nice, just hanging out with someone that can hold his own.

“Uh… so how are… things?”

There goes my attempt at atmospheric absorption. “I hate small talk.”

“Okay,” he says almost immediately.

I sigh as I start to rub my brow. “Too many people—and this isn’t necessarily you—but too many people think that they have to fill the dead air with noise. Personally, I think they’re afraid of the silence.” I watch him just listen to me. “Or maybe they’re afraid of what the other person is gonna think of the silence.”

He gives me a nod, like he’s being educated.

“If you want some unsolicited advice, just learn to be comfortable with silence. Nothing wrong with two people sitting in silence and drinking whiskey.”

“Oh. Alright…”

We’re both quiet after that, and I start to feel a lot more comfortable. I happen to look over at where Mary’s talking to that young man. I see him pretending that he’s got some kind of phone call, and it’s one of the more amusing attempts at trying to tell Mary they’re not interested I’ve ever seen. As I finish my next shot, I go ahead to talk to him again.

“So, you ever kill a man?” I give the impression that I’m dead serious.

I watch him choke on his drink. “Excuse me?”

As I lean again, I watch him look real scared. My eyes narrow to accent my cold stare. “Y’know… watch the life drain from someone’s eyes? It’s not just their life, you know. It’s their hopes and dreams draining away. Every memory and experience they’ve ever had… Gone.”

“Uh…” he whimpers. “No?”

I click my tongue. “Great, me neither.” I knock back my next shot, and while he looks like relief is washing over him like a wave, I gesture towards his glass so that he could drink his as well.

“I’m just messing with you,” I grin. “Relax.” As he laughs nervously, I raise a brow. “Or am I?”

As he’s giving me that nervous chuckle again, I look at the patrons around the bar some more. Dozens more people are in here now. It gives us a much better show.

“Check out this guy with Mary,” he then chuckles as he gestures by glancing at them repeatedly.

“Ha! He looks like a scared rabbit,” I smile. “Where’d that other guy go?”

“He went in the bathroom and never came back,” he explains. “I think he jumped out the window.”

“Poor bastard,” I laugh out.

We let another moment of silence go by while we finish our last round of shots.

“Gosh, this whiskey’s hitting me hard,” he gasps.

“You betcha,” I remark while getting up, slinging my jacket over my shoulder. “Let’s roll!”

I didn’t realize how loud I’d said that. Everyone’s staring at me. And this guy’s wincing at the sudden shout. Awkward.

“Sorry,” I blush. “Whiskey. Indoor voices…” I try and speak a bit quieter this time. “Let’s roll.”

He’s starting to get up, too, but he’s looking around the bar. “What about Mary?”

With another light chuckle, I pat him on the shoulder while leading him out. “Brother, Mary is gonna be just fine.” Even as I’m saying that and hearing her sing Happy Birthday to another poor sap, I’m confident she’s fine. It’s not nearly the first time that she’s been out like this. She can take care of herself.

When outside of the bar, we both walk down the sidewalk. Well, I’m walking. He looks like he’s gonna fall over with every step he takes. I suppose it’s been a long time since he’d been out drinking like this.

“Where to?” he slurs.

“You’ll see,” I grin and just continue to silently lead the way. I don’t stop walking until a familiar strip mall comes into view. It’s one of my favorite spots in town, and I like to come here on nights when cryptids just don’t wanna come out and play.

There’s the salon, the sex shop and computer repair store, and then the liquor store is right beside it. I stop in front of it.

“Wait here,” I insist. “I’ll be right back.”

I’m suddenly in a mood. When I go inside the liquor store, I inch through to find something specific. I ran out of my last supply, and I need something familiar. I don’t stop looking until I find the wine I feel like I’ve spent too much time searching for.

 _White Zinfandel._ Marilyn’s favorite.

I’ve grown accustomed to the taste of it when we first got together, and it was the drink we had at our wedding. Now, it’s just another coping mechanism to have some kind of piece of her without making myself feel too sad. After all, nothing says relaxation like sitting out on the curb drinking fruity wine. I buy two bottles for us to share. I’ll end up coming back here for more tomorrow.

When I see him still sitting on the curb right next to the shop, I walk over with the two bags and hand him one of them before setting myself down beside him. Then I raise it to him with a curve to my lips while letting out a hearty “Cheers” before starting to down my wine. I don’t break away from my concentration while trying to motion for him to do the same. It’s like something dry inside me is finally being quenched.

“White Zinfandel?” He’d only taken a couple sips, and I look at him after one huge gulp.

“What?”

“Nothing,” he reassures. “I just wasn’t expecting…”

I sigh. I guess I don’t blame him for being confused, but I don’t feel like explaining why I bought it. “It’s delicious, fruity, and refreshing. Don’t judge me.”

More cars drive by the strip mall, and we sit together and drink in silence. I feel so comforted right now, even with the assault of flashbacks to my wedding and being with Marilyn drinking White Zin together.

Well, there’s a new memory to add now to replace these feelings of dread. Now I can think about myself and this great new friend drinking White Zin together.

I need something to make myself feel even better, and a rock placed conveniently beside my feet gives me an idea of what to do. “Let’s throw rocks at shit.”

As I hear his confused sputtering, I hurl it at a stop sign. It’s just what I need to let out my frustrations without getting all emotional, and the noise reverberating off the walls and echoing through the parking lot is so satisfying.

“Damn,” I grin. “That felt good.” I place a stone in his hand. I figure he’d be fine. “Now, you try.”

“Uhh…” He hesitates and looks at me. “I dunno—”

“With feeling,” I smirk and look towards the stop sign.

He doesn’t look comfortable with the idea. At least, not at first. Then he takes a deep breath in and holds up the rock.

“I have unresolved resentment towards my father, and I’m gonna express it through property damage!”

My expectations have been surpassed. “That’s the spirit!”

He then chucks it. It’s going, going, going past the stop sign… Shit. He hits the window of a parked car.

“Dude, run!” I gasp as we both stumble off our stoop and rush for the nearest place for cover.

**Author's Note:**

> [tumblr](http://tiff-the-little-wanderer.tumblr.com)   
>  [writing blog](http://flutefluffwrites.tumblr.com)   
>  [twitter](http://twitter.com/wandering_tiff)


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